


the prince, the fool

by ohallows (dean_n_pie)



Series: our story isn’t done [1]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: (But Mostly Angst), (but he comes back lol), AU, Angst, Bittersweet, Canonical Character Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Teen Titans - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:39:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9317051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean_n_pie/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: Kon's gone.Kon's gone and Bart is numb, being held up by an out-of-breath Wally, staring at Tim and Cassie kneeling on the rubble-strewn ground.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A few things  
> \- Bart never died/aged post-Infinite Crisis. Kon still died tho  
> \- Tim and Kon were together for about a year when Infinite Crisis happened. Kon and Cassie are on good terms  
> \- Jack Drake is alive because fuck identity crisis and fuck dc for taking literally everyone away from tim over the span of a couple months seriously fuck you the kid is 16 what the fuck prompted you to give him one of the most tragic fucking storylines in the entire DCU with the notable exception of roy harper FUCK YOU (except marcus to and fabian nicieza i love you both loads and u did good)
> 
> anyway  
> concrit is always appreciated and i super thank u all for reading this self-indulgent piece of garbage! its taken me three tries to post this thanks ao3

Kon's gone. 

Kon's gone and Bart is numb, being held up by an out-of-breath Wally, staring at Tim and Cassie kneeling on the rubble-strewn ground. 

Cassie's mouth is open and Bart thinks she's screaming or crying or both but his ears are ringing so he really can't tell. Tim isn't moving, holding Kon's hand as Cassie cradles Kon's head, and he's just staring down at Kon's bloody face. 

Bart thinks he's gonna be sick. He grabs onto Wally's side and they've been having some problems again but right now his cousin is the only solid thing around him and Bart's legs feel like they're gonna give out any millisecond now. With Wally's help he stumbles toward Kon, and both of them are pretty unsteady from the run through the speedforce so it's almost a relief when he sinks to his knees in-between Tim and Cassie. Wally steps back to give him his space and thankfully Roy's there to hold him up like he did for Bart. 

Bart's head bows over Kon's chest and he reaches out a shaking hand to lay on Kon's collarbone. The breeze picks up slightly and he can feel the tear tracks on his cheeks. To his right, Tim is still silent, eyes dead, unmoving, while on his left Cassie is running a hand through Kon's hair, murmuring soft words to him under her breath. He sniffles and feels the two of them unconsciously lean in; his shoulders touch theirs and they lean together, huddled over their best friend. 

 

\-- 

 

Bart hasn't seen Tim outside of meetings for weeks. He's been throwing himself into the costume more aggressively than usual, and the bags under his eyes seem to grow each time Bart sees him. He doesn't think anyone else has noticed, but Tim's fingers shake, his hands tremble, whenever they aren't gripping something tightly enough that the knuckles turn white. 

Cassie and he have been locking gazes and trading worried glances for days without either of them saying anything, and Bart decides that that ends today. Tim is more distracted at the team meeting than he's ever been, and Bart watches everyone leave before he's zipping around the table and grabbing Tim's arm. Tim stares at Bart's hand as it clenches over his forearm, expression blank. His eyes are hidden by the lenses, but Bart's known him too long and too well. It would suck to have a broken bone even if it heals in under 20 minutes. 

He lets go of Tim's arm but zips in front of the door. His foot taps unevenly against the floor as Tim stares at him, but Bart is done letting his friends hurt. 

"Tim, you need to -" 

"Bart. Not now," Tim says, trying to push around him. Bart might be small but he's determined, so he holds his ground and doesn't let Tim pass. "I'm not kidding."

"Really, Tim? Not now? It's obvious you're not -" 

"Bart," Tim says, and it's his scary dark Batman voice, and maybe if it had been a couple weeks earlier Bart would have backed off, but there's only so long he can just stand by and watch his friend hurt. "I'm fine. I'm over it. Now, let me go."

"I'm not _stupid_ , Tim," Bart huffs, crossing his arms. "And neither is Cassie, so you can stop lying to both of us now."

Tim just glares at him from under the lenses, not speaking. And then it's like the world shifts, because Tim's face is suddenly blank and expressionless, and Bart thought he would be over how creepy the Bats can be, but. Apparently not. 

"Talk to me," he says, and it's louder than he meant it to be, but it's too late to try it again. Tim just keeps looking at him with that horrible blank expression on his face and Bart has never been one for patience, and he's so close to just grabbing Tim and running for a while in the hopes that Tim will just _tell him_ what's wrong when Tim - well. He doesn't answer as much as he turns away and motions for Bart to follow.

So, Bart does. It's almost instinctive by this point. His leader gives an order and he follows. 

Tim leads them to an elevator, and objectively, Bart knew there must be more to Titans Tower than the two top floors they use for meetings and bedrooms and bonding, but it never really occurred to him to wonder what exactly was down there.

Neither of them speak while Tim calls the elevator, and even though Bart wants to say something about how it'd be so much faster for him to just _run_ them down the stairs, he stays quiet. With difficulty, for sure, but he does it and he's kinda proud of himself, actually, for shutting up for more than three minutes at a time. The ride down is just as silent, until there's a soft ding as the elevator reaches its destination.

Tim motions for Bart to go first so he does, zipping out of the elevator and into the greenish cavern. He stops dead before he can get too far, freezing in place and staring up at the... the only word for it is lab. His stomach rolls in a strange mix of horror and confusion as his brain tries to understand just what he's looking at.

"Tim," Bart says, turning slowly. There are rows upon rows of glass containment units filling the room, and a mechanical whirring occupies the silence he left. He makes a full rotation, eidetic memory already logging the precise location of everything in the room, and turns his head to look directly at Tim. "What is all this?"

It's a rhetoric question, because Bart's not an idiot (regardless of what the League thinks, what his team thinks, what _Wally_ might still think) and Tim knows he's not an idiot but answers anyway. 

"What's it look like?" Tim says, because he's _Tim_ and it's easier to be pragmatic and emotionless in a situation that should be charged with emotion and recklessness. 

"Tim, this isn't - Kon's not - this isn't what Kon would have wanted," Bart tries, looking almost desperately at Tim. Tim's face is still blank, giving absolutely nothing away, and Bart. Doesn't really know what to do with this. Half of him thinks that Cassie should be down here, not him, but the other half recognizes that Tim might not still be _in one_ _piece_ if Cassie knew what was going on here. "If you - if you bring him back... Tim. It won't - it won't be Kon."

"But it would be enough, wouldn't it be?" Tim counters. "We could make him like Kon. It wouldn't be that hard, right?"

"Tim, it won't be Kon, no matter what you do. You know that," Bart says, looking uneasily over at Tim. 

"I -" Tim swallows heavily. 

"Tim-" Bart trails off, completely unsure of what to even say. He's read all the books in the San Francisco Public Library, but none of them really said anything about what to say to your best friend when he's trying to clone your other best friend and bring him back to life. That particular snippet was absent from the literature. 

"I miss him so much," Tim says, and pulls his mask off. Bart's surprised to see that his eyes are wet, and he moves forward without thinking about it, wrapping Tim up in a hug. 

"I do too, I do too," he says, and there's a lump in the back of his throats because Kon's face is staring at him from the computer monitors and he kind of hates himself because he wants to help Tim. He wants Conner back too. And maybe a year ago he would be completely on board with the plan, willing to try anything to bring Conner back. Hell, if Conner had disappeared around the same time as Max did, Bart would have lost it.

He has no idea how Tim's doing it. Tim's been keeping up a strong face for all of them, but because Wally and Nightwing are best friends, Bart knows a lot about what he's been going through recently. He's honestly surprised that Tim isn't more suicidal than normal (although, of course, he could be hiding it). 

It was only recently that Bart realized that Tim isn't putting up a strong front for them - he's on the verge of snapping, one single string keeping him tethered to the land of morality and rationality, and Tim's scared to see what he'll become after that final string breaks.

He recognizes it easily - he's felt it before. Nothing to Tim's level, but, well, he can relate in some way, at least.

"Let's go upstairs," Tim mumbles, and seems to just sort of... teleport away from Bart's hold because all of a sudden he's at the stairs with his back turned to the... facility. His arms are stiff at his sides, so Bart doesn't argue even though he really wants to. 

He steps slowly for the first time in forever, making his way over to where Tim is standing at the stairs that lead up to the elevator platform. Neither of them say anything more until they're standing in front of the elevator.

"Maybe he'll come back," Bart whispers as they ride up, twiddling his thumbs.

Tim doesn't say anything, he just laughs. "Not with my luck."

 

\--

 

About a week after that Incident, Bart runs to Gotham. He knows Batman's no-meta policy, so he slows down when he actually gets into the city. The streetlights cast an eerie glow around the roads, and Bart walks as quickly as he can without putting on a burst of super speed. After some super-sleuthing (which basically consisted of calling Wally and begging him for Tim's address, which led to Wally calling Nightwing and owing him at least 3 favors) Bart knew where to find Tim. 

The townhouse, actually, isn't too far away from where he was, so Bart just turns the corner and walks a bit more quickly. He hears some women shouting at their boyfriends, babies crying out of open windows, and just tucks his head down into his collar and stiffens his shoulders. The less he looks like a threat, the less attention he'll get. He read it in a book somewhere. 

Ten blocks later, he's in front of a brick townhouse with the name 'DRAKE' inscribed on the front door. He marches right up and presses the doorbell, rocking anxiously back on the balls of his feet. 

Thank god it's Tim who opens the door.

"Um, Bart?" Tim asks, one eyebrow slowly rising. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought we could hang out! Homework is boring and Wally is boring and Jay doesn't want to go for a run so I came here instead because we could do something fun you know how to have fun right Rob and -"

"Tim? Who is it?" A female voice calls down from the second floor and Tim pulls Bart into the house. 

"My... friend, Bart. From school. He's here to... um. Hang?"

A relatively young woman walks down the stairs, coming over to shake Bart's hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Bart. I'm Dana, Tim's stepmom." She turns to Tim, hands on her hips. "Tim here never has his friends over."

"Busy with homework?" Tim says, smiling weakly, and Bart doesn't know if he just never understood how bad of a liar Tim was out of the mask and cape, or if he's playing along with Dana for the hell of it, or what. 

"Why don't you boys go up to Tim's room? Some of our moving stuff is still in the living room. One of these days Jack will move it."

Bart laughs. Tim grabs him by the arm and actually pulls him away, giving Dana a thumbs-up as they basically run up the stairs to Tim's room.

He shuts the door quietly, but he doesn't look anything close to happy when he turns to Bart.

"What are you doing here?" he hisses, folding his arms. Bart shrugs, and that only makes him look madder. It's pretty entertaining, actually. Bart's wondering if Tim has a forehead vein that comes out when he gets mad like people do in the books. It definitely requires further investigation.

"You can't just come to my house when you're bored!" Tim whisper-yells, and Bart just rolls his eyes.

Oh my god, he does have a forehead vein. He totally does.

"I came because I was bored but also because we never hang out outside of Titans stuff. Plus, I know how much you miss Conner and you know how much I miss him, so I figured we could just play videogames or something and maybe take our minds off of him for more than two minutes at a time? But if you don't want to, I can just leave."

Tim is silent for a second, and Bart stands up, grabbing his backpack from the floor. 

"Never mind, I guess. Tell Dana I said thanks for being so welcoming."

He's taking a step toward the door when Tim finally speaks up.

"Wait!" He walks over to his dresser and pulls open one of the drawers. Bart turns and watches him pull out a plastic game case. "Do you like Residence Devil? I just got it."

"You have the new Residence Devil? It doesn't even come out for another three weeks!"

Tim shrugs uncomfortably. "My dad has connections." He looks down at the case in his hand before looking back up at Bart. "Do you want to play it?"

"Um, yeah?" Bart says, dropping his backpack on the floor again. "Prepare to get your ass kicked, Rob."

Tim laughs. "Bring it on, speed boy."

 

\--

 

After that, Bart runs to Gotham about once a week and hangs with Tim. They lay on his bed and listen to music and Bart actually stops for a second, stops thinking and acting and moving and just. Relaxes. Chills. It's a new experience for him, and it gives him a similar feeling like skateboarding does, and he likes it. 

Tim makes him watch movies, sometimes, putting them on fast forward so Bart doesn't get lost in the slowness and stop paying attention. Tim says he doesn't care because they're all classics that he's seen a million times, but that it's actually a crime that Bart hasn't seen them. So Tim will pull his laptop out and do Batman work and research while Bart gets pulled into the movies and actually gets what Tim means.

Sometimes they just chat - about Conner, about Cassie, about Greta and Cissie and how much they miss them, and Bart never talked this much about anything with anyone except Max, and he realizes how much he likes it. They talk into the late hours of the night until Tim's watch beeps and he has to leave for patrol. Bart runs back to Jay and Joan's house late, in the dark, wondering about the strange new butterfly feelings that appear in his chest every time Tim laughs, or smiles, or pushes another movie at him to watch, or shares an earbud with Bart while they listen to one of Tim's favorite songs, when Tim's arm brushes his and doesn't pull away immediately. 

It makes him feel warm inside, so he likes it, but he doesn't know how to categorize it. So he just ignores it and runs on, deciding that he'll address it if it becomes a problem.

 

\--

 

"Bart." Tim calls his name and Bart immediately whips his head around, completely cutting off the story he had just been telling Garfield about Wally, Dick, and a rather irritable octopus. 

Tim is standing there with his arms crossed, but he looks more uncomfortable and awkward than he does angry, so Bart isn't too worried. Gar snaps in front of his face and Bart blinks, eyes shifting from Tim's silhouette in the doorway back to Gar's impatient expression. 

"Oh. Right." He gestures for one more minute and Tim nods. He launches back into the story even more animated than before, and the punchline leaves Gar near doubled over, crying with laughter. As Gar wipes at his eyes with a finger, Bart claps him on the shoulder and zips over to where Tim is standing.

"What's up, Rob?" he says, realizing a second too late that that was mainly Conner's nickname. To his credit, Tim doesn't outwardly react beyond a slight twitch of his lip, so Bart isn't too stressed out about it. 

"Can you come with me?" Tim asks awkwardly, and as much as he's asking, it's less of a question and more of a plea. Bart nods even as concern shoots through his mind. 

"Of course, yeah, sure," he mutters, distracted, and calls a goodbye over to Gar. "Why?"

"Something I need to do."

Bart raises an eyebrow. "Well, now, that's not ominous at all, is it." He flicks Tim on the ear. "Stop channeling your inner Batman, young padawan."

Tim made him watch the Star Wars movies last week, and Bart loved them. He's been quoting them incessantly since then.

Tim swats at Bart's hand. "Don't screw around, Bart, I'm being serious."

"Whatever you say, Broody McBrooderson." 

"That's not even - ugh, whatever." 

Tim leads him over to the elevator and Bart's stomach flips. 

"Uh - is this something to do with the oning-clay achine-may?" Bart whispers, glancing back over his shoulders before realizing that their resident long-distance eavesdropper isn't present. 

Tim shoots him an exasperated glance over his shoulder as they both step into the elevator. They're both silent for the ride down; Bart's learned a lot about patience and stillness since Deathstroke gave him the assassin equivalent of a literal arrow to the knee, but the elevator doors have barely started to reopen by the time he's basically chomping at the bit.

"Okay, Mr. Sarcastic, what's going on?" Bart asks, blocking the exit. He wants answers before he lets Tim back into the toxic wasteland that is his (still almost unbelievable) cloning chamber.

"Let me go through and you'll see," Tim counters, folding his arms. "It's nothing bad, I promise."

"It's nothing bad, he says," Bart mimics, doing what he thinks is a passable imitation of Tim. If Conner were here, he would definitely get a kick out of it. Once upon a time, him and Conner spent almost a whole day trying to get the best Robin impersonation. Bart hasn't laughed that hard in a while with someone else. And, just on cue:

"I don't SOUND like that!" Tim says, shouldering his way past Bart. "And follow me."

Bart does, obviously, because he has an insatiable need for curiosity, and recently Tim seems to be the best at actually giving him something to be truly curious about. He's not saying that trying to figure out where Gar's clothes go when he transforms _isn't_ interesting and thought-provoking, it's just not. Well. It's not on the same level as his best friend trying to clone a new and improved version of their mutual best friend in their basement.

"So, what's going?" Bart asks as they descend even further. "Did something actually happen?"

"Cleaning up," Tim says, as ambiguous as ever; Bart swears, if Tim tries to give him a broom or a mop, he's running back up the elevator shaft, regardless of how bad of an idea that is. "Computer: activate order Delta Beta Nine Nine Zero Foxtrot, timeframe: immediate."

"Protocol initiated." The computerized voice hums back at them for a second before shorting out. Bart glances around; all of the computers are slowly dying, overheating and combusting in a small burst of smoke and fire. 

"What the..." he trails off, watching as the computers fizzle and die. "Tim?"

Tim stands there watching it all, strange look on his face that Bart can't identify even after having read a couple decades worth of books on body language and expression. 

There's a short blaring sound and Bart jumps, actually ducking behind Tim. To his right, a part of the wall slides up and water begins rushing in, quickly covering the floor and rising upward. 

"Uh, Tim?" Bart asks, once the water has reached his mid-calf. "I'm like, super proud of you for doing this and all, but we should probably getoutofhererightnow!" 

Tim shakes his head slightly, almost like he's coming back to himself, and turns to far Bart. 

"Right."

They head for the elevator and Bart's totally not slightly panicking, he just needs to hit the 'close door' button thirty-seven times so that the elevator actually closes. Okay, so Bart might have a thing against water. Sue him.

Again, the elevator ride is quiet. It's not until they're halfway up that Tim says anything. 

"Conner - he wouldn't have wanted me doing that. He would've hated me for it."

Bart... takes a second. "He wouldn't hate you. Even in YJ, I don't think Conner was capable of hating you, Tim." He pauses, before grinning and wrapping an arm around Tim's shoulders. "He'd be pissed as all hell though."

Tim snorts. "You're not wrong. Think he'd go all red-eyes deep voice on me?"

"Oh, totally," Bart laughs. "You might get your other arm broken. But he still wouldn't hate you, man."

Tim's smile softens a bit. "Yeah."

"Hey," Bart says. "For what it's worth, I think it's a good thing you got rid of your secret hideout thing. Would only end up doing more bad than good."

Tim just smiles. The elevator door opens and he walks out, but not before clapping a hand on Bart's shoulder. "Thanks."

Bart watches him go and shakes his head. He's never gonna understand how Tim operates.

 

\--

 

Bart doesn't know when it happened but somewhere along the way, through spending time with Tim and destroying the cloning chamber and fighting alongside him for so many years before even really knowing him, realized that his feelings for Tim weren't entirely platonic.

He knows when everything changes, though. They're sitting in Tim's room in Gotham, listening to one of Tim's favorite indie bands and arguing about the ending to Star Track. Bart throws his hands out in frustration and falls back on the bed, frowning. A second later Tim is leaning over him with a smug grin on his face that slowly fades away into something... something.

Tim's looking down at him with that look in his eyes again, and Bart's staring back up at him, and in that moment it feels like all he should be doing is kissing Tim.

So he does. Tim lets out a soft little gasp when Bart stretches up on his tiptoes and presses his lips to Tim's. 

Tim lets out a soft gasp and freezes, and Bart pulls back, cheeks burning. 

"What-" Tim whispers, and Bart just shrugs.

"I wanted to."

Tim's eyes are still closed when he leans back into Bart, kissing him back.

"Good," he says, lips brushing Bart's. "And Galaxy Questers is definitely the best Star Track movie."

"You are _impossible_ ," Bart says, grabbing Tim and pulling him down to the bed.

 

\--

 

They're fighting Deathstroke again and Bart swears his knee is tingling (even though he knows it's not possible, because it's not a _real_ kneecap, but. Semantics.) and everything keeps going to shit before they can even pretend to have the upper hand. Deathstroke is tricked out with some new tech that's putting the hurt on all their big guns, and Bart knows it's bad when Cassie goes down hard for the third time in minutes.

He focuses on running a distraction, arms whirling as he spins tornadoes at Deathstroke and darts in to give him a quick (ineffectual) jab in the solar plexus, and he's gone again before Deathstroke can make a move in his direction. Cassie is winding up her lasso again, looking way worse for wear than Bart's seen her since... well, since Kon. Jaime is laying down heavy fire from the sky, not letting up for a second. 

Bart thinks it's gonna be enough. God, he's so tired of being proven wrong.

Cassie winds up and lunges, but Deathstroke is ready for her and turns to face her quicker than should be humanly possible. Bart's halfway there before he recognizes a black shape hitting Cassie's side and knocking her out of the line of fire. It's Tim, and Bart registers this in the half second before Deathstroke's hit connects and Tim goes flying back.

Tim slams into the side of a building and time stops for a millisecond that feels more like an eternity. Bart's moving before he really recognizes the decision, but he's used to his feet moving quicker than his mind so it doesn't throw him too much. Tim is plummeting toward the ground at an alarming rate and Bart picks up the speed. Up the side of the building, grabbing Tim in his arms, and back down on the ground again before Deathstroke can even take a deep breath. Nervously, Bart lays Tim on the ground and props his head up with his knees. 

There's an alarming amount of blood coming from a cut in Tim's scalp, and his arm is bent at a scary-looking angle. Bart grabs the less injured (he hopes) arm and feels along Tim's wrist for a pulse, ignoring the sounds of battle careening around him. 

Jaime goes crashing by him but is on his feet again in a quick moment, laying down defensive cover while Bart checks Tim's vitals. 

His pulse is slow and erratic; Bart sucks in a harsh breath when it stutters for a beat, then looks desperately at Cassie.

Tim isn't there to yell at him to focus, and Cassie looks just as freaked out as Bart feels, and his mind is racing and racing as it rifles through a map of the San Francisco area because Grife, he hadn't exactly _paid attention_ the last time he had been carried to the hospital - thanks to the minor distraction of the new hole where his knee had been. The team looks like they have it handled so Bart ditches and runs to the nearest hospital, being so so so careful not to jostle Tim because he looks so fragile, and he still isn't waking up and Bart knows Tim will wake up but now he isn't and it just. He twists to slam backwards through the doors and gently lays Tim on a gurney, yelling at the top of his lungs for any doctor who could hear to come help them. Within seconds, a nurse is standing at his side and grabbing the gurney, hurrying through a side hallway into the ward reserved for vigilantes. 

Bart follows her and she doesn't even try to stop him; point one for secret vigilante-supporting hospitals. Even if she tried to get him to stay behind, he could just phase through the door and follow. 

The nurse is yelling orders down the hallway and a doctor is running to meet them. Bart is finally cut off at the surgery door, and even with all his panic he gets that the doctors and nurses need their space, and that having an agitated speedster in the room would just be a distraction. 

So. Instead, he paces. Quickly. And waits.

 

\--

 

Bart hates hospitals. The last time he was in a hospital, Deathstroke had absolutely decimated his knee and he had been dealing with just - just a lot of issues revolving around his own self-esteem, and Wally, and the Titans, and basically everything that a kid like him shouldn't have had to think about. Especially not when the pain from his knee was almost blinding. 

So. It hadn't been a good experience. He really didn't want to be sitting in a hospital room again. 

But then Tim had been stupid, reckless, self-sacrificial, annoying, dumb - whatever. Their fearless leader had jumped in front of a blow before it could hit Cassie, and got thrown back a good 50 meters before almost hitting the side of a building. Bart caught him before he could connect, but Tim had still been unconscious and his head had been absolutely _gushing_ blood and Bart had, well. Hauling his ass to the hospital had really been his only option.

He leans forward, staring at Tim through the mess of bandages and tubes and drips and pieces of machinery that were telling him that Tim was still alive, was fine, was gonna be okay. Tim's face is badly bruised, purple and green and mottled, and his mask is ripped at the edges. Bart's hand hovers above his face, shaking slightly, before he gently runs it through the small tuft of Tim's hair that isn't covered in bandages.

"Kid Flash." He hears the voice come from the windowsill and jumps violently, almost falling out of the chair before he realizes it's just Nightwing, perched there with his arms crossed. 

Bart zips over to the window - unnecessary, seeing as Dick has already unlocked the window and clambered into the room. It surprises him when Dick pulls him into a rough hug, and he lets out a startled half-breath before sinking into it.

"I thought you were undercover?" Bart asks, quickly scanning the room. Dick laughs quietly before pointing to the camera behind him. 

"I am. But I heard my little brother got hurt, so I disabled the cameras and came to see him." Dick moves closer to the bed and stares down at Tim, obviously concerned. "What happened?"

"We were fighting Deathstroke, and really what's his issue with us you'd think he'd stick to the big guns, but then he almost hit Cassie but Tim jumpedinfrontofher and then he hit Tim instead of Cassie and his hits are always solid so Tim got thrown really far and almost slammed into a building butIcaughthim and he was bleeding a lot and -" 

"Bart. Calm down," Dick instructed, and Bart took a deep breath. 

"Tim was bleeding a lot and I should have stayed with the team I know I should've and ohmanTimissogonnayellatmewhenhewakesup but I had to get him here because he can't die, he just can't, we already lost Kon and I'm not losing someone else."

"Bart," Dick says, and rests his hand on his shoulder. He smiles kindly, head tilted slightly to the side. Bart can definitely see where Tim got most of his charm from, because it definitely wasn't Batman. "You made the right call."

"I did?" Bart asks, twisting his fingers into the sheets on Tim's bed.

"Yes. And I'm not just saying it because it's Tim and I'm biased. Your team could handle it, and you're the quickest. It's your job to decide when someone needs medical attention before the battle ends."

"Really?"

"Mhm. And, for what it's worth... thanks for getting Tim here as quickly as you did." Dick grabs the medical report and begins reading it through. "I think you saved his life."

Bart stares at Tim on the bed, looking too pale and broken and too close to death for Bart to be even remotely comfortable with. He doesn't even realize he's shaking until he feels Dick's hand on his shoulder and comes back to himself a bit, recognizes the sound of his foot tap tap tapping away on the floor at highspeed. Pulling in a deep breath, he tries to settle himself and instead just sits down in the chair near Tim's head. Dick pulls up another chair and grabs Tim's hand in his, checking his pulse point and staring at the machines with a conflicted look on his face.

Dick casts him a sidelong glance, looking way too hard in the way only a Bat (and Wally, when he's pissed enough) can. He drops Tim's hand and leans back in his chair. 

"I'm gonna get some shut-eye. Haven't slept in what feels like a week. You'll watch over him?" Dick asks, and Bart realizes it's more a gesture of trust for Bart than it is anything else. The Bats don't trust most people to watch over one of their own, and the fact that Dick's even asking speaks volumes. Bart nods vigorously and Dick stares at him for a second longer, evaluating, before tilting his head back and closing his eyes. 

Bart waits almost an hour before he's sure Dick has actually fallen asleep and isn't just sitting there observing him and how he behaves around Tim. He chances a quick glance over to Dick and sees his chest rising and falling slowly. 

Both his hands wrap around one of Tim's gently gently gently, trying not to cause him anymore pain. He presses a soft kiss to the unbandaged part of Tim's knuckles, breathing in shakily. His elbows find the edge of the bed as he pulls Tim's hands up and rests his forehead against their hands. 

His eyes are squeezed shut and he's stroking Tim's hand, and he's getting extremely worried about the team because the battle should have ended, they should be here now, they should be bursting through the room any minute now, but they're not and Bart's panicking a little bit. One of his hands pulls away from Tim's and touches the communicator; there's only a muted static, indicating that it's broken, and he curses softly. 

"Hey Tim," he says, not loud enough for Dick to hear it and probably not even loud enough for Tim to hear it if he were awake. He's whispering to Tim's fingers, and damn it all if it seems stupid or unnecessary, but Bart's got all these words bundled up inside him and he can't hold them in anymore before they come bursting out. "I'm super super mad at you right now but I'm also super super scared even though I know you're gonna be okay but I need you to wake up soon so that I can stop freaking out so if you could just open your eyes so I know you aren't dead it would be, like, appreciated and all that.

"It's been so weird since Kon - since Kon - since the battle with SB Prime, but God, Tim, you and Cassie and Wally and Jay are like the only constants in my life and I just really really need you to be okay because I don't know what I would do if you weren't."

He takes a deep breath and leans forward a bit, feeling a bit ridiculous but also like he's about to cry. "Please, Tim, just wake up."

Bart glances at the clock next to Tim's bed and resolves to call the rest of the team in the next ten minutes or so if there hasn't been any change with Tim. He knows that Cassie is probably freaking out right now, and Rose probably isn't much better, but he can't really make himself let go of Tim's hand to place a call.

"You know, this happened to me and Wally, once," Dick says. Bart jumps about half a mile and drops Tim's hand back to the bed, turning to meet his gaze. "Sorry." 

Bart shrugs, even though Dick doesn't look all that sorry (more smirky, actually and no that's not a word but it fits) and plays with a loose thread in the sheets. "What do you mean?"

"Me and Wally had been in a pretty bad fight, we hadn't spoken for a couple days, actually, but then the Titans were called out for a mission." Dick leans back in the chair, propping his feet up on the end of Tim's bed. "It wasn't supposed to be anything big, I can't even remember who we were fighting. But, I got a bit too caught up in the banter - what can I say, I was probably 13, and I got thrown into a brick wall and lost consciousness."

"Really?" Bart asks, pulling his knees up to his chest. He rests his cheek on his palm, smirking a bit.

Dick smiles indulgently. "When I came to, the first thing I realized was that Wally was running me to the nearest hospital and that he had probably been swearing at me since I passed out." He glances toward Tim, eyes cloudy. 

They sit in silence for a few moments before Dick coughs slightly.

"Wally was pretty scared. I was just glad he was there for me to wake up to after I got to the hospital."

Dick isn't being... obvious, per say, but he isn't being particularly subtle, either. Bart knows that his cousin and Nightwing had a sort-of thing at one point, and that now they're nothing more than best friends. 

He also doesn't really know what to say to Dick's super-pointed comment, either. 

"God, he was pissed," Dick says, staring somehow beyond Tim, and Bart might not be the most perceptive of the speedsters, but even he can tell that Dick is seeing himself in the bed, Wally standing over him in the Kid Flash costume, yelling at him. 

"I'm not mad at Tim, I don't think," Bart says slowly. His fingers are still twitching. 

"You're in love with him." Dick's face is a mask, unreadable, and Bart doesn't even try to lie. He swallows heavily, hand resting on Tim's wrist, feeling his pulse beat slow under his fingertips. 

"How-" Bart starts, but Dick just snorts. 

"Let's just say that I've been on the receiving end of a speedster's 'concerned-mad-but-still-loves-you' look more times than is probably healthy."

"I - umyeahIthinkIam," Bart says, stuttering through it, and if it was anyone else but Dick he would have to repeat himself, slower, but thanks to a pretty consistent relationship of speedsters and bats (or is it birds? Bart's never really sure what the correct terminology here should be), Dick has the speedtalking thing figured out. 

"And is he..." Dick asks, trailing off, and Bart closes his eyes because he honestly doesn't know and he's not sure if he wants to because he's kinda actually really scared about what Tim's answer will be. So he just shrugs, feeling even smaller than he is, and watches the heart monitor pulse. 

"Ah." 

Bart closes his eyes as his fingers tap tap tap against his artificial knee. Dick doesn't say anything else and Bart doesn't offer anything up. 

 

\--

 

Bart contacts the team on his communicator after Dick tells him to, letting them know where he is. Cassie had sounded more panicked than he'd expected, and he feels bad that he made them wait this long for news. Gar gets on the line soon after that, letting him know that there are a couple more loose ends to tie up, and then they'll head over to the hospital.

Dick's asleep (or, at least, he looks like he's asleep, but Bart wouldn't be surprised if Dick was more aware of everything in the room than he was) when Tim wakes up. The heart monitor stutters for a second and Bart's entire body lurches forward, even as the monitor picks up quicker than before. He looks down and Tim's eyes are open, hazed over from the amount of morphine circulating through his veins.

His lips move a bit and Bart grabs the cup of water without really thinking about it, an unconscious motion picked up from watching way too many hospital dramas where the first thing someone wants when they wake up is a drink. He slides a careful hand under Tim's head and lifts, presses the cup to Tim's lips and lets him drink a couple of mouthfuls. 

"Where..." Tim rasps out, struggling to sit up. Bart pushes down on an unbandaged part of his shoulder, giving him a stern look. 

"Same hospital we went to when Deathstroke took a shotgun to my knee."

"Where's the team?" Tim asks, looking over at Dick. Bart can literally feel him catalogue the bags under Dick's eyes before Tim's eyes move back to him. "Are they still fighting Deathstroke?"

Dick speaks up before Bart can get a chance to. Ha, Bart knew he hadn't been sleeping. Score one for him.

"No, the JLA apparently showed up and helped them kick his ass. They're all fine, by the way. Super worried about you."

Tim nods and closes his eyes as he sinks back down into the pillows. 

"Thanks for being here," he whispers, voice hoarse. "Glad you were..." he trails off, and Bart doesn't try and lean closer to the bed to hear what he has to say, he doesn't. 

Since Tim (sort of) woke up, Bart calls the team to give them an update, and Cassie promises to be over in a couple of minutes, as long as Gar and Eddie to stop fighting for more than a couple seconds over who makes the better hell beast (Bart is rooting for Gar).

Hours later, the team had shown up and, as deserved, absolutely flayed into Tim for almost dying, before all hugging him carefully and making sure he was okay. They left after a couple hours to try and track down Deathstroke (with the help of some former Titans and current JLA members). Bart is left alone in Tim's room. Dick had ruffled Tim's hair before he headed out to handle an issue in Blüdhaven, clapping Bart on the shoulder and jumping out the window. 

"You can leave too, you know," Tim says wryly, raising an eyebrow at where Bart is sitting. Where he has been sitting ever since Tim got out of surgery and into the room. 

Bart just laughs. "Right, let me just conveniently leave you alone in a room that would take you under thirty seconds to get out of. Great plan, Tim. I know you're gonna try to leave the second I turn my back."

"Hey, I take offense to that," Tim says as he crosses his arms, but his mouth is curling up in a smirk. "It wouldn't take me any longer than twenty seconds and we both know that."

Bart just shakes his head, but a warm feeling is stirring under his chest as he looks at Tim and memorizes the soft smile on his face. He hands Tim the bottle of water before grabbing a glass for himself. 

Because Tim is a piece of shit and scary perceptive, he waits until Bart is just about to swallow a mouthful of water before casually saying, "Wanna make out?"

Bart chokes and starts coughing, vibrating his hand against his chest in an imitation of hitting it, trying to gain his breath back. Tim, the ass, is just sitting there looking completely innocent and Bart wants to hit him.

He finds a non-bandaged area of Tim's arm and throws the cup at him.

"Hey, no assaulting the injured person," Tim yells, laughing.

"You kinda started it!" Bart accuses, taking a long gulp of water to try and soothe his sore throat. "Asshole."

"I try."

 

\--

 

It's late at night and Bart is sitting up in bed, watching the moonlight spill across the sheets. Tim, clothed in one of Bart's shirts, is tangled up in them, hair splayed across the pillow. Bart stares down at him and holds his hand out, dipping and playing in the moonlight. The shadows move gently across Tim's face, giving him an almost ethereal look. 

Before today, Bart would have sworn that all the Robins had been trained to not make sounds while sleeping. But Tim's making this soft little snuffling sound every time he breathes in, and Bart finds himself doing some re-evaluating.

He grabs his sketchpad and pencil from the side table and gets to work, focusing on how comfortable and peaceful Tim's face looks, pressed into the pillows. It's probably the one time the Boy Wonder isn't constantly thinking, coming up with battle plans and strategies and thinking about Gotham or Kon or any number of things, and Bart wants to capture that on a page. 

It takes about an hour to get the base lines down, because he's trying not to rush and instead focus on remembering every single detail about Tim's face. He runs his hand through Tim's hair and Tim rolls over, letting out a soft sigh. Bart starts on a second page, moving around the bed and sitting on a chair. He pulls his legs up and rests his pad against his knees. 

Tim shifts again and his eyes blink open, unfocused. He must be out of it still, because Bart has never known any of the Batfamily to be anything less than fully conscious the second they wake up. Tim stares at him for a second, and his lips pull up into a gentle smile. His hand reaches toward Bart, motioning for him to grab it. "Come to bed?"

Bart freezes.

Takes half a second. At superspeed he draws Tim just like he is, not worried about imperfections of any sort because Tim is staring at him with so much affection in his eyes and his hand is actually reaching out for Bart, and just for good measure Bart takes another half second to run to his house, grab Joan's camera, get back to the Tower to snap a pic of Tim before it's too late, and return the camera before Tim can so much as blink. 

Tim doesn't even look surprised when Bart appears and disappears 3-odd times, waiting patiently for him to return.  His hand is still out and Bart stares at it for a moment before reaching out and grabbing on. With a surprising amount of strength considering how out of it he is, Tim yanks him into bed. He stumbles forward and collapses on top of Tim. He laughs and presses a kiss to Tim's cheek before shimmying across the bed and finally getting comfortable. Tim doesn't let go of his hand, wrapping it around his side and pulling Bart's chest into his back. 

"Sleep now," Tim mutters, voice pitched low and raspy with sleep. Bart shivers and kisses his shoulder. 

"Whatever you say."

He curls up into bed behind Tim and waits for his breathing to slow down. Once he's sure Tim's asleep he presses his lips to the back of Tim's neck, pulling Tim tighter into his chest. 

"I love you," he whispers, shifting down a bit so that he can press his forehead into Tim's neck instead, lips brushing against his back. "I love you."

 

\--

 

He's not surprised that Dick told Wally. He's kinda upset, yeah, because it wasn't exactly a huge secret but also he doesn't really know if he wants Wally to know. Especially because that means that Wally is gonna take him on a cross-country run and they're gonna talk about feelings.

Not like Bart will turn down a cross-country run, ever. He's just less thrilled about the whole emotional talk bit; it'll be awkward and stilted because it's Wally, but also because Bart's really only used to talking this much with Max.

He misses Max. A lot. More than a lot. 

But anyway. Him and Wally are scheduled to run together today, and as much as Bart's dreading it he's trying to stay positive. He leaves his room with only minimal reluctance, twirling his goggles around on a finger and speeding into the kitchen. 

Wally is sitting at the table with the Flash cowl pulled back, chatting amicably with Jay. He looks up as Bart runs into the kitchen, waving at him with a grin. 

Jay doesn't even look over at him when he says, "No running in the house."

Bart sticks his tongue out at the back of Jay's head, only to get a stern finger and a, "I saw that, Bart."

"Yeah, okay, Max," Bart says, coming up and hugging Jay from behind. Jay makes a little scoff like he's offended, but Bart knows by now that it's a speedster thing and that Jay isn't actually upset. It had taken a little bit for him to get that particular joke when he first moved in with Jay and Joan. 

"Ready to go, kid?" Wally asks, and Bart nods emphatically. 

"Born ready! Literally!" Bart says, doing another lap around the kitchen and ignoring Jay's pointed cough. 

"Then let's get this show on the road," Wally says, standing up and clapping Jay on the shoulder. "See you around, old man."

Bart takes a millisecond to run upstairs while Jay fires back an insult, grabbing Joan around the waist as she tidies her bathroom. "ByeJoanseeyousoongoingonarunloveyoubye!"

"Don't be late for dinner!" Joan calls after him as he speeds off.

"Wouldn'tdreamofit!" he yells as him and Wally peel away from the house and head toward Australia, toward the empty desert where they can just run and run without any worries. 

Well. They might worry about hitting a kangaroo, but that's relatively minor in the whole scheme of things.

They're already running past the speed of sound, so Wally doesn't try to talk with him yet. Bart is eternally grateful for it, but he knows that the conversation is gonna happen as soon as they stop for a snack or drinks. Maybe if Bart just shoves the protein bar in his mouth before speeding off again he can curtail Wally's attempt to emotionally connect with him. 

No such luck. They stop for a break in Hawaii and Wally sits back against a tree as he pulls out an entire sandwich. 

"I'll eat this quickly and meet you there!" Bart tries, waving the protein bar at him. Wally just shakes his head as he bites into the sandwich. 

"Nope," he says, around an entire mouthful. "We've gotta chat. Might as well do it now before I forget."

Bart groans, flopping down on the ground. "Can't I just take off and we don't talk about this?" he whines, throwing his hands over his eyes. 

Wally chuckles and shakes his head. "No can do, kid. Sorry. Cousin and mentor privileges."

"What, embarrassing the hell out of me?"

"Language, and duh!" Wally swats him on the side of the head and Bart turns to glare at him, imagining that the tree he's sitting against falls and hits Wally in the head. "So, a little bird told me about you and a littler bird."

Bart groans. "That was awful."

"I know." Wally is grinning like a fool and Bart is just. This is too much. He's tempted to just make a mad dash for the hills, but he also knows that (regardless of his posturing) Wally is faster than he is - for now - so he'll be caught and interrogated anyway. He blows out an irritated breath loudly. 

"Me and Tim are dating but not dating he's not my boyfriend or anything but I like him a lot and he likes me too okay that's it no more questions thanks for playing," Bart says, tearing into his sandwich and refusing to make eye contact with Wally.

"I'm happy for you, kid. It's about time something good came your way."

Bart actually drops the sandwich out of his hands. He stares at Wally, confused. "No lecture? No prodding? No nothing? What is this. Opposite Day?!" 

"Jeez, kid, calm down. I'm supposed to be your cool cousin, not your parent. I can be chill sometimes."

"Oh my god, stop ruining it!" Bart says, laughing, and Wally lightly gently shoves at him.  

"Make sure he knows that I do know how to vibrate my hand through someone's chest, though. Could come in handy somewhere along the line."

Bart just shakes his head and finishes eating his sandwich, really wishing that he'd turned down the idea of a run. He should have known it would end up like this.

"Alright, kid," Wally says, standing up and stretching. "Let's get a move on - I promised to have you home by dinner!" 

Bart rolls his eyes as Wally speeds away, stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. The trees sway behind him as he takes off running.

 

\--

 

It's over a year later since the crisis happened when it happens. Long story short, Kon healed up and came back and kicked Superboy Prime's ass and is alive and back and.

Kon is back. 

Kon is back and it's amazing because he was Bart's best friend and he's back and everyone is so _happy_ and he just feels so relieved that Kon is here again, is whole and perfect and _back_ that it almost doesn't hurt when he sees how tight Tim is clutching Kon as he buries his head in Kon's shoulder. 

Almost.

Tim gets first dibs on Kon. But, as self-proclaimed second best friend, he cuts everyone but Cassie in line for a hug and goes all in, grabbing Kon and hopping up, clinging to him with his arms and legs. "You're not allowed to die again!" he declares, and Kon laughs and pets his hair and Bart just wants to freeze the moment, doesn't want to leave. 

But other people want to congratulate Kon so Bart reluctantly drops down, going in for one more quick hug before stepping back. He sneaks a glance over at Tim, trying to hide under his fringe so Tim doesn't notice him looking. Tim's staring at Kon and his eyes are shimmering and his hands are clutching his cape and Bart blinks slowly. Realizes.

Bart's always vibrating; side effect of being the fastest kid (teenager) in the world. He looks at Tim, looks at the way Tim is looking at Kon, and stops vibrating for almost a full second as it feels like the world freezes around him. It's enough time to process the feeling in his chest (regret, he thinks) and not enough time to decide what he's gonna do about it. 

And then time is moving normally again, and Bart is staring at Kon and not (not not _not_ ) looking at Tim.

After everyone seems to have had their fill, Cassie grabs Kon and drags him over to her and Bart. Her lasso slips out and grabs a laughing Tim before he can escape. He's pulled into their little circle and they all huddle together. Bart is sandwiched between Cassie and Kon and he wraps his arms around their shoulders. Kon is laughing by his side and Bart's missed him so much that it sounds like the best noise. Cassie's crying again but now it's happy, and she's not even yelling excuses about how it's not crying, she just has something in her eye, and Tim looks so relieved and like a burden has been lifted from his shoulders. 

Bart's so, so, _so_ glad that Kon is back, regardless of what that means for him and Tim, because if having Kon back makes him and his friends so happy, it's worth anything. He clings to his friends long after everyone else has left the room and they hold him right back and for the first time in a while he feels like the world has righted itself.

 

\--

 

The festivities have died down and everyone went to bed, but Bart's sneaking into the kitchen to steal the last few pieces of cake before anyone else can have them. He eats three slices in about a minute, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, when he hears it.

Someone's whispering in the hallway. Two someones. Bart slowly slips off the bar stools and tiptoes to the doorway, peeking out. It's coming from far down the hall, and Bart slips out to investigate. 

"-with Bart now?" It's immediately recognizable as Kon whispering, and Bart freezes, silently sliding down the wall and pressing his back against the metal. He's barely breathing, scared that Kon will hear him and come investigate. 

"It - it just happened, Kon, I didn't plan on it -" Tim. 

And there's no way that Kon doesn't hear Bart's heart beating, because Bart can feel it trying to jump out of his chest as he stands there, frozen. 

"So, what does that mean for us," Kon says, and there's a long, swollen silence. 

"I. I don't," Tim murmurs, voice cracking. 

"Tim, I'm not mad, I promise, I just. I didn't expect you to wait for me, you thought I was dead."

"I know that, Conner, but I just." Tim sounds absolutely wrecked, more emotion in his voice than Bart usually hears, and it reminds Bart of just how few people Tim actually lets himself open up to. "I didn't expect you to come back."

"Well, sorry to disappoint?" Kon says, and it sounds like he's trying to defuse the tension but there's an undercurrent of hurt there. 

Bart should leave. He shouldn't be listening to this. It's not right. He knows. 

"Conner, I lost it when you died. I almost listened to Ra's and used the Lazarus Pit. I. I went kind of crazy. You, Steph, my mom, everyone... it was too much. Bart - he helped me through that."

"I picked up on that, Tim."

There's another long pause. 

"I can't - I need to think about this, Kon. It's late and you just came back from the dead. You should probably rest."

Bart holds his hand over his mouth, barely daring to breathe. 

"Okay, Tim." Kon sounds completely

defeated and tired. "I'll stop. It's okay."

"Conner..." Tim says, trailing off. "I'm-"

"Don't. It's fine, Tim."

"I'm going to go patrol around the Tower. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure, Tim."

Tim leaves and Bart vibrates backward, hiding in a cabinet as he passes. Once Tim's gone, Bart peeks around the corner to see if the coast is clear, but Kon is still standing against the wall, staring forlornly in the direction Tim walked away in. 

After a few more moments, Kon sighs, long and tired and sad, and pushes off from the wall, hovering slightly as he moves in the opposite direction. Bart watches him leave until his shape is obscured by the shadows of the tower. He lets his head fall back against the counter and stares up at the ceiling.

He stays there for a while after Kon has left.

 

\--

 

Tim's in Bart's room. He's in his room and sitting on his bed and his mask is off and that's when Bart knows. Tim looks up the second he opens the door and it makes him wonder how long Tim's been waiting there, if he saw Bart heading back to the Tower and decided to ambush him in his room or if he's actually been here for a while, waiting for Bart to get back. 

He might have a home in Central City, in Keystone, back in the 30th century, whatever, but he'll always go back to Titans Tower. Barry knows that, Wally knows that (he thinks. _hopes_ , actually, because while he and Wally are doing better it's still not great and he just wants Wally to acknowledge how hard he's trying, sometimes-)

Tim clears his throat. Bart twitches a little bit, a half-aborted jump. He can get lost in his head sometimes. The door shuts with a soft -snick- but Bart doesn't move any closer to the bed.

"Can we talk?" Tim asks, and Bart is reminded of before all this happened, when Tim was trying to clone Kon and killing himself doing it without talking to any of them and building on top of the weight of the world already on his shoulders. He nods jerkily and leans back against the doorframe.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead."

There's another beat of silence before Tim even speaks. 

"I don't think we - I - I think we should end this."

Bart knew it was coming, expected it, had prepared himself for the reality, and yet it still hurt. He's also never heard Tim struggle with his words like that, and doesn't know if it's because he didn't prepare what to say or if whatever he came to say just wasn't coming out like he wanted it to. Bart can relate. He doesn't say anything, recognizing that Tim isn't done talking, just searching for the right words.

"It's just. It's Kon." Tim gestures helplessly in the general direction of Kon's room. As far as 'right words' go, those are relatively weak, in Bart's opinion.

Bart bites his bottom lip. "I heard you and Kon talking the other night. I get it."

"You were listening?" Tim asks, eyes wide. Bart nods. 

"I know I shouldn't have been, but then I just couldn't leave, and. I'm sorry." 

Tim is silent for a few minutes, before he quietly says, "It's okay."

"So, this is it, then?" Bart says, leaning back against the wall. 

"I didn't - I'm sorry, Bart. I didn't expect. Any of this."

"You're breaking up with me but also we were never really going out so there's really nothing to break," Bart says. "It's okay, Tim. I mean, Kon's back. I was kinda expecting it."

Tim looks kinda miserable, but he also doesn't look like anything is gonna change his mind or like he's gonna deny it, so Bart doesn't try. He wouldn't win. He wouldn't want to win, not against Kon, not when Tim-and-Kon is a concept that he's so used to anyway. When Kon makes Tim so happy that the bags under his eyes might go away and he might start smiling more often. 

Tim... doesn't look shocked, exactly, but he does look like he wasn't expecting this. It kinda hurts, considering that Bart thought Tim was one of the people who actually got that just because he acted like a kid a lot of the time didn't mean he was immature and childish. 

Bart musters up all his energy and stretches up on his tiptoes, resting one hand on Tim's arm as he presses a soft, barely-there kiss to his cheek. Tim's arm stiffens under his grip when his lips brush Tim's cheek, and Bart feels like something is squeezing his heart in a vice grip. 

He steps back and smiles, working hard to make it seem natural and not at all forced, but Tim's a detective. Bart blinks rapidly, trying to hide any tells from Tim. It would be more helpful if Tim could have just told him what the tells _were_ , then he wouldn't need to worry about not showing them. 

He realizes that his foot is tapping at superspeed against the floor and stops, opting to start tapping out a familiar (but silent) rhythm on his leg. 

"It's really okay. Cissie's been looking for a date to her prom anyway, maybe I'll offer to go with her. She deserves something nice."

"You do too, Bart," Tim says, looking strict. "Don't forget that."

"Okay, you weirdo," Bart says, laughing. It sounds strange to his ears, but he just hopes against hope that Tim won't notice anything weird.

Tim nods and steps to the side, moving past him. Bart stands there as Tim leaves, fighting the temptation to turn and see if Tim is looking back at him. He hears the soft - _snick_ \- of the door and swallows, walking almost mechanically over to the bed, sinking down on it and pressing his back against the wall. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, resting his chin atop his hands and staring blankly at the wall opposite the bed.

 

\--

 

Missing team movie night is punishable by death, or at least that's what Gar says, so Bart doesn't even want to risk being late. Kon had missed a movie night, once, and Bart had woken up to a screaming match between him and Gar over the latter dying his skin temporarily green. Bart wouldn't look good in green; there's a reason why his colors have stuck to a strictly yellow, red, and white theme. Allens look better in red. Maybe not so surprisingly, Kryptonians can work the green. Must be the alien thing. 

So, when Jay and Joan haven't returned from dinner by the time Bart has to leave, he opts to scribble them out a quick note - "Movie nite @ tower, back tomorrow! (promise I won't miss school. maybe. not intentionally, at least. thanks love you bye!)" rather than risk showing up late. He hauls it over to the Tower, skidding to a stop as he reaches the top floor. 

This is the time to prove that he's fine, that he's coping and managing and all the other multiple-syllable words that mean that he isn't breaking down after being broken up with. He can do it, too, he thinks, because he's been pretty good at faking things for a long time, and maybe he can just think of this as another VR trial rather than anything real. Maybe that'll help him get through the night.

He'll be fine. He's Bart Allen, Kid Flash, Fastest Kid (Teen) Alive, and he can handle this. He's fine.

Bart grabs his own personal bowl of popcorn from the counter (and really, Gar had actually labeled them like the dork he truly was) and heads into the movie lounge.

He's fine. Really. But. 

But Tim's leaning against Kon on the chair, soft smile on his face as he curls into his side, and Bart takes a step back. The floor creaks under him and Cassie turns her head, catching his gaze and motioning for him to come over. It's too late to back out, so Bart walks over to her side and sits on the floor. His head leans against Garfield's leg, and Cassie reaches down to run her hand through his hair. He makes a happy noise and curls into it, grabbing a blanket from Jaime (ignoring the loud "Hey!" accompanied by Khaji Da's angry clicking) and wrapping it around himself. 

He refuses to look over to the chair, instead focusing on the bad action movie filling the screen. Cassie's fingers are almost therapeutic as they massage his scalp, and within a few minutes he's already feeling tired, leaning even more against Gar's leg. He dozes through the second half of the movie, curled up comfortably. The room is still dark when he wakes up to Jaime gently shaking his shoulder. He blinks awake blearily, rubbing at his eyes. The credits are rolling on screen, casting the room in minimal light. 

He takes Jaime's offered hand and stands up. Stretches. His eyes move around the room as he takes mental note of who's left. Gar and Raven are curled up together on half the couch while Cassie takes up the other half, snoring loudly. Kon is standing in the corner of the room, holding a sleeping Tim in his arms. He's smiling and chatting with Dick, who... Bart doesn't remember him being here beforehand, so he kind of just assumes that Dick stopped in to check on Tim and see how things were going. 

He unconsciously curls into himself, trying to avoid being noticed, but he can't help staring at how Tim's face looks calmer than it has in a while. The way it does when he's asleep and not (for once) stressing and making contingency plans for his contingency plans. Tim shifts a little in Kon's arms and his face is hidden away, tucked into Kon's chest, and Bart turns away with a lump in his throat. 

"You okay, amigo?" Jaime asks, because he's just that nice, and Bart turns on a high megawatt smile and nods. 

"Never better, BB, just can't wait to catch some Z's, if you catch my drift!" He nudges Jaime in the side and winks, to which Jaime just rolls his eyes, ruffles Bart's hair, and walks away. 

Bart moves to follow him when he feels a slight tap on his shoulder. Dick is standing right behind him, sympathetic look in his eyes.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks in a whisper, strategically blocking Tim and Kon from Bart's view. Good, he supposes, considering how close he was to running down the side of Titans Tower and not stopping until he physically couldn't run anymore. 

Bart thinks for a second and then shakes his head. "No, I mean. He's happy, right? I shouldn't - that's fine. I'm okay. Really." _Lie_. 

Dick frowns but doesn't push him on it, and Bart is eternally grateful. It's too late and he's too vulnerable and he honestly doesn't know what will happen if he's forced to talk about all the coiling emotions inside his chest right now. So he's glad Dick is gonna let it go, at least for the time being.

"If you say so, Bart." And it's obvious that Dick doesn't believe him, but Tim and Kon must have left, so Bart lets the smile fall but Dick doesn't do anything except pull him into a tight hug, a brotherly hug, and Bart's reminded why he likes Dick so much.

Dick lets go and ruffles his hair, like Jaime, like Cassie, and then places a hand on his shoulder. "Whenever you're ready to talk..."

He leaves it open so Bart just nods. One more smile and then Dick's heading to the garage, ready to speed out of there. 

Bart doesn't zip to his room. He walks slowly, pulling the blanket even tighter around himself. If he was younger it'd be acceptable to run home to Jay and Joan and ask to curl up with them for the night, but now he's a Mature Teenager and he wants to show that he's strong enough to be on this team. 

The lights are off when he gets back and he leaves them that way, pulling his shirt off and collapsing into bed in just his sweatpants. He stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling and doesn't fall asleep for a while.


End file.
